


with little hesitation

by justlikeswitchblades



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 00:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10231025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: It's not that Yurio hasn't considered the possibility of Otabek becoming his boyfriend. He just doesn't want them to change.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beltenebra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beltenebra/gifts).



> my yoi white day gift for beltenebra! this isn't so much friends to lovers as it is friends taking steps to figuring out how to be boyfriends, and is rather yura-centric at that...but i hope you enjoy it!

Yurio knows his body better than anyone else. When he’s performing at his peak, and when he feels himself start to unspool, the anxiety of finishing his routine getting the better of him. Most of the time, he keeps himself tight, and fights to maintain the precision and flawless execution he expects of himself.

He takes practice seriously, sometimes more than he needs to. But he’s trying to teach himself how to loosen up. To embrace fluidity on the ice and soften his transitions—it’s something that comes to him naturally when he skates, but he wants to be more cognizant of it. He wants to harness it willingly, to ensure himself of his prowess, and eliminate the lingering possibility that it might not come to him in a competition when he needs it most.

Today, Yurio is skating loose, though he might be tempted to admit it’s verging on sloppy. Yakov is barking at him from the side of the rink. Yuuri, becoming more and more of a regular rinkmate, regards him with a gentle concern. Yurio doesn’t mean to slack off, of course—but he has reason to be carefree.

“You better tell Yuuko hi from me,” He warns Yuuri without malice, sitting down to unlace his skates after Yakov dismisses him from the ice. A lock of hair falls out of his ponytail into his eyes, but it fails to hide his smile. “I’d come visit, but Otabek is flying in from Almaty.”

“Oh, really?” Yuuri sits down next to him, smiling back. He doesn’t know much about the stern-looking competitor aside from what Yuri’s told him, but he seems nice enough. “I wish you had told me sooner! It would have been nice to say hello.”

Yuri grins, his teeth flashing white. “You should see the routines he’s planning for this upcoming season—they look incredible.”

And then, there’s something in Yuri’s voice that makes Yuuri pause. Yuri is the kind of person who wears his heart on his sleeve without meaning to, so he’s not very hard to read—especially when he’s angry. But it’s different this time. There’s the laugh that starts to bubble up in his voice in the syllables of _incredible_ , how frequently he talks about Otabek, how he smiles with such ease…

Yuuri’s been in love with Viktor for all these months now, anyways. It’d be impossible for him to let something so familiar go unnoticed.

“Yurio,” He begins cautiously, cocking his head just enough to let out a sliver of his intrigue. “Do you like Otabek?”

“Of course I do,” Yurio raises an eyebrow. “He’s my friend.”

“Like how I like Viktor, then.” 

Yurio wrinkles his nose, making a noise in his throat.

“Don’t be such a pig about it.”

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri laughs, raising his hands up in a plea for innocence, dropping the subject. Yurio rolls his eyes, but his smile returns in no time. He gives Yuuri a playful nudge with his shoulder, and continues to pack his gear up.

***

He can’t say it’s caused him to lose much sleep, but it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it.

Yurio exhales softly in the quiet of his dark bedroom, cocooned in the blankets that he has pulled up to his chin. Otabek _is_ his friend—and a stellar competitor at that. He sends him clips of the jumps he’s been practicing, and it’s all too easy for Yurio to text him back excitedly with what he should take out of his routine, and what he should try adding in. It’s been months, but his heart rate still jumps at the memory of watching him skate at the Grand Prix Final. The seconds and minutes of new video accumulating in his phone’s storage only make his heart thud harder, excited for what awaits the both of them in the near future.

Skating isn’t all that Yurio thinks about when it comes to Otabek. There’s the sting of the wind on his cheeks when they’re on his bike together, the warmth and the solidity of Otabek’s body when he’s holding on to him. But when they talk about skating, he finds himself drawn to how wide Otabek smiles, to the kind of light he gets in his eye when they’re on the topic of competing, on costumes, on what he wants to try next. 

It’s rare to see him so animated, though Yurio never minds. They can sink into quiet over Skype calls with each other, Otabek working on a new track while Yurio tackles what secondary schoolwork he has remaining to make his grandfather proud. It’s peaceful, filling him with the same kind of warmth that talk of skating also brings.

He doesn’t think about things like attraction or romance unless they’re right in front of him, and even in the case of Viktor and Yuuri, he more or less ignores it. It’s none of his business. Trying to think about himself and Otabek in the same way feels weird, forced, like an intrusion of the other’s privacy.

But then are the times where he doesn’t have to try. When his eyes fall to Otabek’s lips when he’s talking, to his cheekbones and jaw. How they hold hands when they go shopping sometimes, sharing a bed when they spend the night together, hugging at the airport when one of them has to return home. They’re friends, and Yurio’s smart enough to recognize that the world might define them as something else. They haven’t talked about it much, but frankly, Yurio doesn’t feel like they need to. He’s happy when he’s with Otabek, and Otabek feels like home. That satisfies him enough, more than any kind of label could.

Unless Otabek wanted him to call him his boyfriend, of course. And in that case, he can’t say he can imagine himself saying no.

***

Otabek lands at the airport late Thursday evening; his cab gets him to Yurio’s apartment within the hour. He’s got a new haircut, the back and sides shorn down to almost nothing, and Yurio can’t resist letting his fingers trail over his skin, inhaling Otabek’s faint musk from the six and a half hours of travel as he pulls him in.

He lets him go, the sound of the shower kicking in from behind the bathroom door a few minutes later. Pulling a Tupperware out of the refrigerator, he reaches for the microwave instinctively at first, only to pause and pull out a roll of tinfoil. He tries his best to artfully arrange two of his grandfather’s piroshkis and a generous serving of potatoes atop the lone baking sheet he owns, then slides the meal into the oven, reheating it while Otabek cleans up. They eat with little interruption, both of them ravenous, with it being less than two hours till midnight. They’ve talked enough in the past week that there isn’t too much to catch each other up on, anyways.

Afterwards, Yurio squints at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, hair tied back as his cleanser sudses up on his cheeks. Otabek supports himself against the doorframe, eyelids drooping as he brushes his teeth. There’s a dot of cleanser on his nose, dabbed there by Yurio when he pulled him in for another hug, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Yura,” He yawns, stepping into the bathroom to spit into the sink. “Can I kiss you?”

Yurio glances down at him. In addition to the cleanser, Otabek’s got a line of toothpaste foam on his chin. He snorts, and Otabek smiles back.

“Give me a minute.”

Yurio wipes himself clean with a washcloth, fussing over Otabek with a tissue next, who doesn’t even bother to push his hands away. He walks Otabek backwards into the bedroom, his hands on his shoulders. One of Otabek’s hands falls to his waist. The other moves carefully to work the elastic out of his hair.

Otabek leans in with a smile, his features faintly illuminated by the golden lights of the city outside the window. Their lips meet in a soft, sleepy movement. His are chapped, but warm, and Yurio closes his eyes, kissing him back. He’s never kissed anyone before, but he keeps himself flexible—moving similar to how Otabek moves, imitating the careful use of his teeth and his tongue. Heat rises in his cheek, warm until it becomes too hot, seeping into his brain and muddling his thoughts. He separates from Otabek, but Otabek still leans his forehead to his, the both of them panting above the quiet buzz of the radiator.

His arms fall away from Yurio as he steps back, sliding under the covers. A little clumsy with sleep, he follows after him, the warmth of his chest pressing up against Yurio back, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt and coming to a rest atop his stomach. Otabek’s breaths spill hot over the back of his neck, slow and deep like he’s half asleep already. Yurio feels the weight of sleep pulling at his own eyelids, but after a moment, he shifts onto his side, careful not to disrupt Otabek’s embrace. They both inhale at the same time, dissolving into tired, quiet laughter, and Otabek presses his nose into his cheek, encouraging him.

“Otabek. Are we dating?”

Otabek pauses, his brow furrowing in thought. 

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, struggling to keep his eyes open. “We haven’t talked about it.”

Yurio chews his lip. “Do you, uh, want us to be dating?”

Otabek takes a breath, then nods, a smile growing on his lips. It makes Yurio want to kiss him again—and he does, leaning over to give him a gentle peck.

“Do we have to do anything different?” Otabek shakes his head no, and Yurio lets out a small sigh, unaware he was holding it in.

“Actually,” Otabek amends a moment later, “There’s one thing you can do for me, Yura.”

Yurio stiffens, but Otabek makes a dismissive noise in his throat, hugging him closer.

“Ask me again in the morning—I need to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“Beka…” Yurio shakes his head, laughing. “You better kiss me then, too.”


End file.
